


illuminated cities at the center of me

by catastrophes



Series: together, we are [3]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, can be read as a standalone, spoiler alert this is a proposal fic and they are just boys in love ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophes/pseuds/catastrophes
Summary: the five times that seongwu says i love you, and the one time he doesn’t





	illuminated cities at the center of me

**Author's Note:**

> title from richard siken's poem: "saying your names"
> 
> switch pov and best to be read as individual vignettes as it spans across 2ish years. enjoy!

 

 

 

 

i;

 

“It’s okay,” Seongwu grunts out heavily, hearing his voice come out in a rasping huskiness. “You don’t have to go. I’ll just, you know, _die_ here.”

Minhyun stares at him with an impassive expression. A brow arches.

Seongwu knows what he probably looks like—a downright mess, half hidden in a mountain of pillows and blankets, with only his flushed face and matted hair poking out. The slight scratching in his throat from yesterday has turned into a full-blown cold (probably nothing serious, but he still feels like death has warmed over) and all Seongwu wants to do is sleep into the new year.

He feels another monumental sneeze coming on, and stretches out in a wild attempt for the tissue box that is parked next to him. He thankfully manages to catch it just in time so as not to spray the room with germ filled droplets.

Weakly tossing the tissue towards the rubbish bin by the bed, Seongwu sees it fall short, landing with the other used pieces and cough lozenge wrappers that litter the floor around him. (In his defense, it has been a rough afternoon.)

Minhyun makes a reproving noise as he goes to gingerly pick up all the stray items, unable to help himself. “You are such a baby when you’re sick.” The stare he gives Seongwu is mostly of peevish exasperation, but the amount of simultaneous concern that still transmits through, impacts into Seongwu like a freight train.

“But I’m _your_ baby,” Seongwu says nasally before he sneezes again.

“You disgust me,” Minhyun sighs, but then he laughs.

(That particular laugh is one of Seongwu’s favorites, the softest of noises that winds deep within his chest to take root in it. However if you hold him at gunpoint and forced him to choose, Seongwu would have to say his number one favorite Minhyun laugh is the ugly, loud and goofy one that is elicited _because_ of him.)

Minhyun moves to sweep Seongwu’s mussed bangs from his eyes before he presses the back of his hand onto his forehead to check his temperature. His boyfriend’s skin feels smooth, but most importantly, _warm_ against the contrast that is the shivering clamminess that he feels like is coursing through him currently.

His hands slowly slide down coming to gently cup around Seongwu’s cheeks with his palms and Seongwu tries not to nuzzle further into the touch.

(Too late.)

Seongwu blinks, an attempt to focus on what Minhyun is saying through the haze of comfort that he feels from his boyfriend’s supportive hold.

He must admit, the thumb sweeping back and forth across his jaw is also pretty distracting.

Minhyun frowns as he takes his hands off Seongwu to clinically state, “You’re hot.”

Seongwu pouts. “You only just figured that out?” He chortles at the droll look the other male shoots him at his poor joke but it quickly descends into a coughing fit that makes him feel like his throat is getting shredded by a thousand knives.

As Seongwu finally catches his breath, gulping in air that feels just as harsh against the dryness, he slowly becomes aware of the straw Minhyun nudges against his lips. He sucks in small sips of water to wet his mouth.

“What did I say about your immune system being so weak?” Minhyun nags as he now pets him, alternating between soothing circular strokes and back scratching. Seongwu almost wants to purr but he doesn’t give Minhyun the satisfaction. “You need to exercise more.”

“Sex is a form of exercise,” Seongwu croaks out lightly with a small dance of his eyebrows and immediately gets a pinch along the sensitive skin of his left shoulder. “Ow, it’s true! Maybe this is a sign we need to have more—”

Seongwu flops over to his right halfway through his sentence, trying to escape the clutches that is Minhyun’s tickling fingers now but he just gets caught up in the tangle of duvet, laughter coming out in guffaws. His cough returns with a vengeance which becomes a blessing in disguise as it stops Minhyun's attack.

“You are even more tiring when you’re sick,” Minhyun huffs, but an affectionate tone curls around his words, edging the corners of his mouth upwards. “Why am I such a sucker for you?”

“I dunno but s’okay, I won’t tell anyone,” Seongwu answers back in a stage whisper as he feels a warm press of lips against his own warm forehead.

“Dumbass,” Minhyun begins lovingly as he pulls back, lips twitching. “Everyone already knows.”

Seongwu pokes out his tongue as he gets tucked back into the cocoon of blankets and he feels more than just the oven of heat that surrounds him physically. Minhyun continues, returning to reply Seongwu’s initial statement, “Anyway, fine. You’re lucky the store is just across the road.”

“Ice cream please,” Seongwu chokes out after he coughs again.

Minhyun eyes him, admonishing as he pulls on his black, puffy jacket, “Only you could possibly want ice cream in the middle of Seoul’s snowstorm of a century.”

“But my throat hurts.” Seongwu whines, a noise coming low and deep from within him. “And it’ll be all cool and refreshing.” He lets his eyes roam over his boyfriend standing standing by the closet, who, for all of his height, is still engulfed by the long length of the coat. Minhyun now winds the charcoal scarf that Seongwu bought for him for his last birthday around his neck and Seongwu reminds him, “Don’t forget to zip up.”

Minhyun punctuates the next moment by doing exactly that, before commenting, “The patient should stop talking, and start sleeping.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seongwu says as he waves an arm through the air, feeling himself begin to drift off. “After you come back with the goods.” And with one final, lingering look of concern, Minhyun steps out of their bedroom, out of their apartment into the cold.

Seongwu spends the short time with Minhyun gone, hovering along the precipice of wakefulness and sleep, and is pulled forth back to full awareness only when he hears the rustling of a plastic bag when Minhyun barges back into the bedroom.

“It’s so utterly cold outside,” Minhyun breathes hard through his still chattering teeth. “Ong Seongwu, you owe me big time for this,” he continues accusingly as he pulls off his jacket and layers of sweaters.

Seongwu lets himself emerge again from the makeshift blanket fort and smiles. “I missed you.”

“I was gone for like ten minutes,” Minhyun replies dryly as he produces a bottle of cough syrup from the bag. “And before you say anything else, yes, you’re going to be a good boy and take this before you can have your reward after.” He pauses. “They didn’t have the grape flavor that you normally like so I had to get orange instead.”

Seongwu emits an aghast noise at the thought, but wordlessly takes the capful of liquid from Minhyun. He’s learnt over the years that it’s easier just to give in sometimes rather than meet Minhyun’s stubbornness head on.

“Well, you know it’s miserable—this constant business of missing you. It’s an ailment,” Seongwu says with a dramatic flourish once he’s swallowed the devil’s syrup. It burns on the way down and he sees Minhyun roll his eyes, but the bitterness is lost amidst the following kiss that Minhyun quickly deposits on his mouth. It’s almost like touching air, with how light it is.

Minhyun crawls onto the bed, worming his way into the fortress and hands over one of the two ice creams he bought. Seongwu shifts firstly to make space, and then to prop his own self up into a sitting position as Minhyun settles down next to him.

Side by side, they work their way through the icy dessert despite the whirlwind of snowflakes outside. Seongwu with his sweet tooth is eager as always, crunching quickly through his chocolate casing to lick around the soft serve cone, enjoying the way the cream coats his swollen throat. In minutes, he’s done with it, and he surreptitiously slides his gaze sideways to take note that Minhyun is only halfway through his.

Seongwu quickly calculates the risk/reward ratio in his head and decides that the enticing treat is well worth it. He knows it’s a bad habit but he can’t help himself. Seongwu silently swoops in to take a bite out of Minhyun’s remaining ice cream, teeth clamping down on vanilla and raspberry, and is hit immediately with both a brain freeze and a pointed glare.

He licks his lips after letting the sweetness melt on his tongue and allows what he hopes is his biggest, most dopiest grin to form on his face—the one he knows Minhyun can't resist. As he locks eyes with Minhyun, Seongwu reasons, “You’re mine so what’s yours is also mine right?”

Minhyun just gives him a _look_ —it’s the same one when Seongwu randomly woke Minhyun up to suggest a rooftop picnic at 2am just because he wanted to see the night sky, or the time when Seongwu had brought back five bags too many of hodu-gwaja, the walnut pastry that he likes (but more importantly, the one that Minhyun likes _more_ ). It’s the same one where it’s almost like Minhyun can’t wrap his brain around Seongwu’s oddities, but he does because the look never lasts long, always softening with lightning speed as Minhyun breaks into resigned chuckles.

“Your stupid face.” Minhyun groans, brows furrowing. “You’d think I would be immune to it all these years.” Minhyun sighs, giving in to the grin that just grows impossibly wider as he holds out his leftover cone. Seongwu happily laps at the dripping liquid.

(There you go, that Seongwu smile has a 100% Minhyun success rate.)

“A secret source has told me that I’m irresistible,” Seongwu jests impudently as he takes a last lick, with the delayed decency to leave some leftover. Seongwu lets himself take his fill of the face before him whose current dancing eyes is another one of his favorite expressions.

“You mean _me_.” Minhyun lets out another long-suffering sigh as though accepting his own demise.

Seongwu focuses on the little drop of white that paints the corner of Minhyun’s mouth and the darting pink tongue as he cleanly finishes the last of his ice cream. Seongwu then sniffles as he leans his head on Minhyun’s shoulder, adjusting himself until he finds the angle he likes best. His throat feels a little better but his nose is still clogged up.

They sit like that for a minute before Seongwu lets himself volunteer into the air, “I think I’d miss you even if I didn’t know you in this lifetime.”

The words hover in the quiet of the room.

“Seongwu.” Minhyun's lips are careful around his name, voice soft as he turns to once again cup Seongwu’s face in his palms, thumb sweeping over the skin that his moles are etched upon. They rest, forehead to forehead, tips of their nose brushing. Seongwu tries not to breathe too hard onto Minhyun’s face. “Where are you getting these goddamn cheesy lines from?”

Seongwu twists his face into what he believes to be his best ‘mortally wounded’ expression and retorts, “It’s the fever talking.” But he smiles again, fondly this time, because Minhyun is looking at him like Seongwu holds the key to unlocking every secret that Minhyun wants to know.

He doubts he's still shivering just from the chills. Will he ever get bored of this?

Minhyun slowly runs his hand down Seongwu’s arm until he reaches down to intertwine their fingers. He leans to hold his lips just slightly off Seongwu’s own, not seeming to care about the intermingling of their breaths, whispering, “I guess you are mine too then, so what’s yours is mine as well,” before finally dropping down to capture him in a kiss.

Minhyun tastes like his normal sweetness, but there is an added layer from the leftover treat as Seongwu licks into his mouth. He can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut, can’t help the way his body relaxes completely into the embrace, and he especially can’t help the splash of heat that his stomach houses, even after all this time.

However, the prolonged lack of air causes Seongwu to feel a tickle in his throat that isn’t caused by the emerging emotion, and he hastily pulls away to devolve into another coughing fit that rattles his body.

"Gross," Seongwu says once he calms down, basking again in the stroking up and down his back. "Even I wouldn't kiss me in this kinda state."

"I've had you at worse." Minhyun's eyes glint with amusement. "Anyway, I've been eating my vitamin supplements, so unlike _someone_ , I'll be fine."

Seongwu closes his eyes to focus on allowing his lungs to perform their intended task of keeping him alive. After a moment of fluid breathing, he manages to exhale out, "Don't come running to me when you're down for the count." A snorting noise comes from Minhyun. Seongwu peels open his eyes to squint. "Hey, remember that time you got food poisoning? And you call _me_ a baby."

Minhyun stares at Seongwu from under his lashes, lips pressed into a line. "I told you not to come in! You insisted."

“Mm, side effect of that missing you disease I guess—can’t leave you to die.” Seongwu wriggles, so he's curled more cosily against Minhyun's body which is emitting heat like a furnace. It's like he can never get enough. His head rises and falls with the tide of Minhyun's breath. "Seems like we’re truly doomed for each other," he says drowsily.

Minhyun acquiesces to murmur his agreements and they settle into a comfortable silence.

And doomed for each other, they rightfully are, when Seongwu thinks of moments like this:

When they sleep in too late, knees locked against knees, arms winding around each other's body despite the lack of circulation and Seongwu wakes to a sleep-heavy Minhyun who has bed hair and pillow creases on his face. Five more minutes, Seongwu pleads, and he gets fifteen in the end.

Or other times like this:

When Minhyun slides a sneaky hand onto Seongwu's thigh under the table at dinner out, fingers straying close to dangerous territory, all with an innocent facade situated on his outer shell. They return to the dark of their apartment and Seongwu presses hot, open mouthed kisses to Minhyun's stomach, sliding his lips down until he almost makes Minhyun explode with the magnitude of desire and intimacy.

Or occasionally like this:

When they visit their favorite brunch place the following morning, still continuing their tradition from college, already knowing what each other’s orders are without needing to ask and sharing hearts over shared plates.

But Seongwu knows they are irreversibly doomed for each other when:

Seongwu presses his thumb against the inside of Minhyun's wrist, both their pulses simultaneously matching beat for beat, and Minhyun sounds out Seongwu's name like it's always belonged there, and Seongwu feels like that's all he ever needs to regain his bearings again.   

Seongwu has almost fallen asleep, lulled by the repetitive threading through his hair when he is suddenly plagued with the persistent inkling to remind Minhyun something.

He beckons to his boyfriend who takes his attention off his book to shoot him a curious glance but nonetheless leans down to present his ear.

"What is it, Seongwu?"

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you,” Seongwu whispers hoarsely, as the snow continues to fall steadily outside.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

ii;

 

It’s just past nine-thirty at night when Seongwu receives a phone call which pulls his attention away from the primetime drama that is the main talk of the month and is quite riveting if he must say so himself. Minhyun is away at a work dinner tonight, and Seongwu is finally taking a break from the last two hours of procrastinated preparation for the broadcast he is scheduled to do tomorrow.

He leans down to pluck his phone off the ground, not bothering to say hello since he knows it’s Minhyun from the ringtone.

In lieu of a greeting, Seongwu immediately asks into the speaker, “Can you buy me some of those chips that I like from the GS25 before you come home? I’m too lazy to go downstairs—”

“Hello?” a strange voice interrupts.

Seongwu quickly pulls the phone away to look at the screen, re-confirming that it’s Minhyun’s number making him highly confused. "Uh, hello?"

“Sorry to bother you this late but is this Ong Seongwu-sshi? Minhyun’s partner?” It’s definitely a voice that Seongwu doesn’t recognize, as it clearly does not belong to Minhyun despite all pointers that it should be.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Seongwu replies wonderingly as small alarm bells begin clanging. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s nothing serious,” the stranger briskly informs him before there’s a short pause on the line where all Seongwu can hear is the person berating someone else like he was scolding a naughty child. He returns to the phone to continue, “Well, not in a sense. I’m Yongjin, one of his colleagues and Minhyun is currently… kind of very drunk right now.”

Oh. _Oh._

“What?" Seongwu hauls himself to a standing position. "Minhyun doesn’t normally drink so I don’t understand how he’d get to that state?” His feet drums against the carpeted floor in mild agitation at the thought especially since Minhyun is a complete lightweight who usually taps out after three sips. “Is Dongho not there?”

If there was anyone Seongwu could trust to take care of Minhyun, it’d be Dongho.

“Ah, no. Dongho couldn’t make it tonight and sorry, the clients that we were entertaining were pretty insistent, and Minhyun couldn’t say no,” Yongjin answers the questions, going forth to even explain that they’ve been trying to land this deal for a while now and turning down vip clients was not quite written in the books as a stellar employee moment. “Anyway, I was going to just put him in a taxi home, but he’s been babbling on for the past ten minutes saying that he refuses to leave without seeing you in person. So if you could just…”

Seongwu isn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried. He settles for somewhere in between—jacket already on, keys in hand and laziness completely forgotten. “Sorry for the trouble Yongjin-sshi. If you can text me the address, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

 

Seongwu arrives at the restaurant hoping that Yongjin was smart enough to keep any further alcoholic beverages away from his boyfriend. Despite sober Minhyun not liking the taste of alcohol, drunk Minhyun had no qualms in accepting what people gave to him.

He allows his eyes to scan from face to face until they land on his intended target, tucked away in one of the corner booths—bright eyed and red faced, next to whom he presumes is Yongjin waving a hand.

Seongwu makes his way over to the pair who is now the last two left at the table and he takes in the copious empty glasses and bottles that scatter the surface. There is a guilty expression on Yongjin’s face as he respectfully bows to Seongwu. Seongwu greets him back and apologizes again to the other male on behalf of his boyfriend who is now currently staring deeply at his water cup, finally allowing Yongjin to take his leave.

Moving to crouch down in front of Minhyun, Seongwu waves his hand once, twice in front of Minhyun’s unblinking stare. But before he can say anything, Minhyun perks up, turning to look at Seongwu and his eyes suddenly widen as if a child faced with his favorite toy. Minhyun's lips stretch into the widest smile that Seongwu’s seen on his boyfriend lately.

Minhyun has been so busy with work recently, that even if at the expense of his body and mind, Seongwu is almost glad to see Minhyun so radiant.

Seongwu senses that Minhyun is on the projected path to smash their lips together when Minhyun suddenly halts in his tracks.

“Hey! Has anyone told you that you look like my Ong? My _Ongcheongie_?” Minhyun sings out as his lip wibbles. There's a crease in between his eyebrows that Seongwu desperately wants to smoothen out. Minhyun mutters something else that Seongwu can’t decipher but he pipes up loudly again to say, “But he’s a lot better looking, no offence. You look kinda all blurry.” Minhyun waggles a finger at him, eyes unfocused and glassy.

“None taken,” Seongwu says wryly. He can almost taste the alcohol on Minhyun’s breath despite still being centimetres away and despite it all, he pulls back to stare at Minhyun with hearts in his eyes. “Because I _am_ Ong, Minhyun.”

Minhyun’s lips form an ‘o’ shape, before questioning, “R-really?”

Seongwu nods and Minhyun peers closely, shoving his face into Seongwu’s. When Minhyun realizes that it is in fact him, he immediately lights up, practically throwing himself on Seongwu, to almost bowl him over. “You came!” Minhyun eases back to allow Seongwu to regain his balance, as he continues, “I’ve been waiting _all_ my life for you.”

“Have you now?” Seongwu bites his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Minhyun brings his hands up to guide Seongwu’s jaw so as to close the gap between them, matching their lips up together. The taste of alcohol is even more prominent when they clash teeth, and Seongwu wonders how much he’s had to drink.

He can barely remember the last time Minhyun got epically shit-face drunk—probably back in college when they had celebrated graduating because the other male generally refrains from it in the first place. Seongwu himself has grown up and restrained himself over the years, only allowing himself to drink the occasional shots of soju or a couple cans of beer.

“I missed your face,” Minhyun slurs as he pinches Seongwu’s cheek, who immediately winces at the sharp zip of pain that shoots through him. Minhyun’s lips mould into that ‘o’ again when he takes in Seongwu’s pained expression and quickly adds, “Did that hurt? I’m soooooo sorry.” He vigorously rubs at the probably reddening mark and Seongwu can’t help but allow himself to crack a smile at the situation despite the scars he’ll probably have tomorrow. “But your face! It’s soooooo handsome.”

“Even completely smashed, you still flatter me."

Minhyun ignores him to carry on, “Hmm, if you were a fruit… or is it a vegetable?” He taps his chin, almost deep in thought before declaring further, “You’d… be a cute...a cutecumber! My favorite!” His face then contorts into what Seongwu can only classify as a very uncharacteristic leer, but a leer nonetheless. “Or baby, you’d be my _fineapple_.” Without waiting for a response, Minhyun immediately descends into hearty laughter at his lines—the same lines that Seongwu had first said to Minhyun in his own alcohol fuelled haze a year ago. Plagiarist.

“C’mon smooth talker, let’s get you home now okay?” Seongwu tries to persuade his boyfriend, adopting a saccharine tone. “You’re drunk and you need to sleep this off.”

“I’m no’ drunk,” Minhyun protests very indignantly, and very drunkenly. “But o-okay let’s go home now since you're here.” He hiccups. They leave the restaurant towards the parked car with Minhyun clinging to Seongwu who staggers slightly from the weight. It’s not an easy task hauling a man taller and heavier than him, whilst trying to fend off slobbery kisses that get peppered all over his cheeks.

A drunk Minhyun is infinitely more tactile than a sober Minhyun, if even possible.

Not that he dislikes it. In fact, it’s the opposite.

They finally reach the car and Minhyun is thankfully still in control of most of his body parts and obediently folds himself into the vehicle independently though not without clutching onto Seongwu’s shirt tails for a short moment.

When Seongwu manages to climb in to the driver's seat, he reaches over the center console to make sure Minhyun’s seatbelt is secure. Satisfied, he then turns to fiddle with the vents in order to check the air-conditioning is blowing because he knows Minhyun doesn’t like feeling hot, which is now probably worsened by the alcohol flooding him.

He gets distracted by how Minhyun is tracking his every move with fox-like curiosity and Seongwu takes in the contrasting way that his boyfriend's eyes are dark, but his cheeks and the tip of his nose are bright pink.

“I miss you so much.” Minhyun grins at him, crooked and lopsided and Seongwu feels completely winded.

“But I’m right here.”

“I still miss you,” Minhyun insists convincingly.

Seongwu lets the wave of contentment settle into his bones and just hands over the carton of wintermelon milk tea that has been the latest craving of Minhyun’s lately and places two pills in his hands. “Eat up.”

As he drives home, drunk Minhyun is even noisier than sober Minhyun and he chatters non-stop about how _excited_ he is about the new client that has signed on and how _happy_ he is to finally see the reapings of his efforts from the past two months. When the interior of the car finally falls silent, Seongwu quickly turns his head to see Minhyun fast asleep (alternatively, passed out cold).

When he glides to a stop at the next traffic light, Seongwu leans over to reposition Minhyun’s head which had been lolling about, nestling it gently against the window.

The headache he won’t be able to stop, but perhaps, the crick in the neck.

Seongwu kisses Minhyun goodnight on his cheek, brushing his thumb over Minhyun’s knuckle and Seongwu thinks, he thinks it always feels like the beginning of something new, every time.

“I love you,” Seongwu proclaims despite knowing that Minhyun won’t hear it, but he says it anyway regardless.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

iii;

 

“We better hurry!” Minhyun berates his boyfriend lightly. “Before you miss your train.”

Seongwu hesitates in front of him, still holding onto his hand and Minhyun can feel the warmth of his palm despite the two layers of gloves that separate their skin. “But,” Seongwu begins, eyes flickering. “Are you sure you can take care of yourself?”

Minhyun barks out a laughter that is only slightly muffled under the mask that is covering the bottom half of his face. “You're asking me that?” Seongwu’s lines immediately soften upon hearing the question as he realizes what he just said. He laughs, tugging on Minhyun’s hand to lead him into the train station and Minhyun trots along, keeping up with his boyfriend’s long strides easily.

They stop under the schedule board to figure out the correct platform number and departure time. “What if your cold gets worse?” Seongwu starts to fret again, clicking his tongue and Minhyun groans. But before he can reply, he has to quickly lean away to his left to cough into his elbow.

“It’s already been three days and it hasn’t got anywhere near as bad as yours was. I think the oranges that you force fed me on the first day did the trick,” Minhyun answers as he lets a small smile toy on his lips, even though he knows Seongwu would only be able to see the way his eyes form half moons. “Also you know, my strong body.”

“Sure.” Laughing again, Seongwu brings his hand up to pull Minhyun’s coat tighter around his frame, before adjusting his scarf.“You know, if you want me to stay home with you, you only have to ask,” Seongwu coyly states. “I won’t even rub it in your face.” He playfully adds, “Much.”

Minhyun crinkles his nose. “Look, as much as I would love for you to shower me with your world renowned chicken soup—“ (there’s only slight sarcasm here) “—and your company, I probably won’t have much time to enjoy it anyway since I’ll have to be in the office.”

His own family had decided to take a trip to Japan for the holidays since he had told them he was going to spend it with Seongwu’s family at his grandparents place in the countryside. However, work had called him in last minute saying there was a massive problem with one of the projects they had been working on, causing their plans to go bust.

“But—“

“No buts,” Minhyun says as firmly as he can. “It’s only for a few days anyway, we can survive without each other.” Minhyun feels a slight dripping from his nose and swipes the back of his gloved hand across his face. Seongwu immediately produces a tissue from his pocket. “And you’ve been looking forward to this trip to see your family since you missed Chuseok with them.”

“I still can’t believe they’re making you work over the Christmas period,” Seongwu grumbles, though he sounds at least slightly more malleable to the idea of the solo trip now especially since Minhyun knows he can’t pass up finally seeing his older sister who has returned home from America for a few weeks. He wouldn't take it from him even if he wanted to spend Christmas together.

Seongwu leans over to brush his lips across Minhyun’s temple, a delicate feathering of sensation.

Minhyun allows himself to melt into the enveloping hug that Seongwu is encasing him in. It’s strong and secure, and it feels like it's home. “I don’t want to risk getting anyone else sick anyway.” Minhyun lets his eyes close as he takes a deep breath, the cold air filtering through the station clearing his mind. “Remember when your parents last visited us, your dad had only just got over that cough he had for almost two months?”

There is a short period of silence before he hears Seongwu reply in a small voice, “Trust you to remember these things and be a better son that I am.” Minhyun’s eyes blink open to peer into his boyfriend’s face who is now looking glum and sullen, probably kicking himself for being selfish.

Minhyun pats him lightly on the cheek. “That’s what you have me for."

“Asshole,” Seongwu tosses back as he ducks his hands under Minhyun’s hoodie to work his way through the fabric to dig fingers into bare skin. Minhyun squirms. “You’re supposed to say that I’m a great son."

“You are,” Minhyun answers simply before he beams. “But your mom likes me better.”

Seongwu glowers but he looks like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “I wanna say shut up, but I can’t even do that because it’s probably true.” He leans forward to place a chaste kiss against Minhyun’s lips that is covered by the thin material of the mask, the only barrier between them. “I will only be a train ride away, so if you need me, just say the word.” He frowns. “Don’t work too hard okay?”

“Go, already.” Minhyun swats at Seongwu who obediently bends down to pick up the duffel bag that sits on the ground beside them. “Tell your family I say hi, and merry christmas.” Minhyun pulls his mask down to press one last kiss onto Seongwu’s mouth before the other can leave, this time lips upon lips. “Enjoy your grandmother’s cooking for me.”

Minhyun tips his chin down to bury the bottom half of his face in his scarf, rubbing his hands together warmly. Their gaze locks when Seongwu looks around to wave at him once before he turns back to walk down the stairs towards the designated train.

 

 

The few days leading up to the holiday and Christmas Eve itself is spent in the office, a haze of balled up pieces of paper, and soiled tissues—a mess that could almost rival Seongwu’s worst moments and Minhyun is glad that his boyfriend isn’t privy to this uncharacteristic behavior.

He would never live it down.

But just as Minhyun thinks such thoughts about Seongwu, he looks up in surprise when he hears a clearing of throats in front of him. It’s Dongho, holding a takeaway bowl of what looks and smells like heaven to a man who hasn’t found the time to eat anything today.

“Seongwu text bombed me earlier,” Dongho says as he places the bowl in front of Minhyun who has cleared a small space amidst the destruction that is his desk. “He ordered me to specifically buy this from the corner store, and for me to write this post it note with his exact words.”

Minhyun laughs when he takes in the grimace that has found its place on Dongho’s face and figures Seongwu has probably forced him into writing him something ironically cheesy as per normal Seongwu. “Sorry Dongho-ah. Regret is always there in hindsight huh?”

He doesn’t really regret though—liking the way that Seongwu had so easily integrated into his life back when they first met in college, and that the two of his closest friends had got on like a house on fire.

Dongho flaps a hand in Minhyun’s direction. “S’okay, he promised to play my song on his segment during the new year.” He bares his teeth in a wide smile. “And man you must have him truly locked down because he agreed to two months of bike rides as well.”

The delicious wafting of the soup almost makes Minhyun lose track of their conversation, but Dongho’s words pull him back in immediately. Minhyun fires back amusedly, “Pretty sure Seongwu played you. He doesn’t even own a bike.”

Dongho tuts. “You underestimate me, Minhyun.” He crosses his arms. “I wouldn’t have accepted the deal if I hadn’t already owned two bikes. Get ready for a brand new boyfriend next year because I’m gonna make sure he’s whipped into shape.”

“Good luck with that, he’s a stubborn one.” Minhyun leans back against his chair and smiles up at his friend, mirth edging his corners.

“Just like you then?” Dongho quickly tosses him the question, and Minhyun purses his lips only to let his lips relax after a short moment because hey, it's true. “Anyway, I ran into Hyukjae hyung just before and he said that management has approved for us to have tomorrow off since we got most of the urgent stuff done.” Minhyun nods, thanking him for the food and Dongho salutes him, ambling out of the room.

Minhyun finally turns his attention onto the meal in front of him, peeling the plastic lid off to see that it’s yukgaejang, his favorite spicy beef soup—the one that Seongwu knows he only likes from that one place near his work because the aunty recognizes him and gives him more meat. But before he digs in, he plucks the post it note off the side to read:    

 

> "Even though it’s small, I have a galaxy in my heart  
>  But it’s bigger than what eyes can see  
>  An even bigger galaxy  
>  You’re always in my galaxy  
>  If you have a galaxy too  
>  It would be nice if I was there too  
>  In the day becoming the sunlight in a timeless blue sky  
>  In the night becoming a scatter of brilliant starlight  
>  No matter when, the world in my heart  
>  Is beautiful like when I’m with you"
> 
> i discovered this poem in my grandma's bookshelf and thought of you  
>  it’s cold outside so make sure eat a lot and to wrap up warmly 

Minhyun squints slightly, trying to decipher Dongho’s illegible scrawl from where he’s tried to fit the whole message onto the small square of paper. When Minhyun finally does, his metaphorical heart that had started falling the moment he took in the first sentence, completes its descent to land squarely in his hands.

As he begins to savour the thick, peppery stew that warms his insides, he lets himself think back to the night that they had laid in bed, talking late into early morning. Seongwu had come a long way from previously teasing him about the way Minhyun always had his nose in a book during his free time, to softly asking Minhyun to share with him some words as rain pattered against their bedroom window.

On that particular night, Minhyun was happy to be able to read his favorite poem to his favorite person. On that particular night, Minhyun was happy to be able to feel the empty spaces in his chest fill to the brim with the way that Seongwu had looked at him with an enraptured stare as they discussed the contents of the verse. On that particular night, Minhyun was especially happy to once again be reaffirmed by the fact that Seongwu had and has twined around him like roots in soil, a promise to never let go.

Love has now become a familiarity to Minhyun—what used to be an intricate maze of threads has been slowly untangled by Seongwu’s hands alone and slowly but surely weaved again by both their hands together.

Love, that used to feel like it had to be a great, grand gesture now comes in the form of the steaming cup of tea that he is greeted with when he returns home after a long day, the easily stolen bell peppers that he knows Seongwu knows Minhyun doesn’t like, the never-ending laughter whenever Seongwu hears Minhyun imitate Optimus Prime even if he’s heard it a dozen times before and small snippets of poetry that is hastily written through a friend on a throwaway piece of paper; a heart returned back to him.

Love is Seongwu.

 

 

Christmas day comes quickly overnight, and Minhyun is woken up to the stream of singing: “when the day breaks, I’ll sleep by your side again, when I sleep in your arms, in your arms, the stars spill, and make the milky way. I can fly anywhere, ‘cause I’m a pilot, anywhere”—the song that is attached to Seongwu’s contact; a song that is just as apt as the poem from the day before.

Minhyun hastily moves to grab his phone off the bedside table to accept the video call. He rubs his eyes with his free hand to blink away the last of his slumber to be met with Seongwu’s illuminating face filling the screen in front of him.

“Merry Christmas Hyun,” Seongwu announces, and he switches the camera around so to capture the rest of his family who is sitting around the living room, chiming in their well wishes. Minhyun greets them as respectfully as he can, amidst the accumulative sneezes. Seongwu is frowning when he returns to the screen, camera shaking slightly as he moves to a quieter corner. “Are you feeling any better?”

“My nose is still drippy, but I am feeling heaps better so don’t worry,” Minhyun reassures him as he props himself to sit further up against the oak headboard. “Merry Christmas to you too.” The world is white again outside after a new dumping of snow had fallen overnight and he wonders if Seongwu has the same view outside his own window.

Minhyun refocuses on the conversation at hand where Seongwu is currently complaining that he’d been roped into preparing japchae for lunch, something that normally would be Minhyun’s job when they visited his family. “Spending time with your grandmother is a privilege, Seongwu-ah.”

Seongwu fusses in front of him, mouth corners tilting downwards as he replies petulantly, “I can spend time with her when it’s not five am and negative one hundred degrees!”

“Poor baby,” Minhyun deadpans. “You’ve always been so sensitive.”

Seongwu’s eyes narrow, looking like he wants to counter Minhyun’s statement, but there is a short moment where they just stare at each other, and then Seongwu just faintly says, “I wish you were here with me.”

Minhyun delicately dabs at his nose. It’s not often but Seongwu can be sentimental sometimes. “Me too, but you’ll be home tomorrow so just enjoy the rest of the time with them.

“It’s going to feel like forever.” Seongwu pouts sulkily with a wink and Minhyun laughs him off, waving as they click off the call when Seongwu gets called away by his mother in the background. The air in the room is warm, and Minhyun rolls over to spread himself, outstretched across the whole bed, fingers grasping against the cool sheets of Seongwu’s empty side

It’s not that hard, wiling away the day doing nothing because Minhyun enjoys it. It ends up being filled with multiple cups of tea that doesn’t warm him as much as Seongwu’s normally do, catching up on movies that he’s been putting off because of work and cat naps that allow him to replenish the energy that he feels the cold has recently sapped out of him.

The long stretch of the day gets broken up by kkt messages from Seongwu who has made it his duty to give him hourly updates: pictures of the neighborhood dog where Minhyun has to insist logically in response, _no, you can’t bring him home because firstly he belongs to someone else, and we are out of the house for too many hours to look after a pet_.

Or that his sister has met a new guy and Seongwu lays down all his suspicious worries only to be resignedly placated when Minhyun texts back, _it’s nice that you care but she’s old enough to look out for herself_.

Also the cute ones where Seongwu mentions every single thing that reminds him of Minhyun; including the simple text that just showed the word, _ears_ and a picture of a small budding tomato plant that has been relocated indoors, and said ears burn in accordance.

 

 

Minhyun has just come out of the shower the day after Christmas, towelling off his damp hair with the mental note to call maintenance to fix the leaky faucet that has been driving them both nuts for the last month when he hears the apartment door slam open and suddenly the serenity of the past few days is broken.

But, Minhyun doesn’t mind because he is immediately wrapped up in a long hug, cold nose burrowed in the juncture where his bare chest and his neck meets. He doesn't mind because he’s met with his Seongwu, the one who says his hello in the form of feverish kisses that spill forth from the hollows, the one who smells like soap and spice and smoke and mint all at the same time, and the one who when he finally speaks, repeats his name _Minhyun_ over and over again, in a way that makes Minhyun’s cheeks bloom red.

Two hours later, Minhyun perches on their kitchen stool as he watches Seongwu unload the second bag that had been foisted on him, pulling out multiple containers of food to place into their fridge.

“You were right!” Seongwu begins aggrievedly. There’s lines stamped onto his forehead as he whines, “Look at how my own mother—my own _birth_ mother loves _you_ more than _me_ , her one and only precious son.” He pulls the head of broccoli out to place onto the shelf below in order to make room to complete the puzzle. “She normally never packs this much for me but she insisted I bring home this huge box of kimchi because of the compliments you gave it the last time. Do you know how heavy all of this shit was?”

“C’mon, don’t say that you’re not going to enjoy all of this food too.” Minhyun chews on his bottom lip, wisely trying not to smile when he is faced with Seongwu glaring daggers at him.

“That’s not the point,” Seongwu bites out waspishly. “Did you know that the first words out of their mouth was not ‘hi son, how are you, we’ve missed you', but 'where’s Minhyun’? They didn’t even hug me and almost pushed me aside to see if you were still coming out of the station. They were _so_ disappointed to hear that you weren’t joining us for Christmas.”

Minhyun now can’t help the chuckle that escapes him as he walks up to gather his querulous boyfriend in his arms who has closed the fridge door, finished with the stocking that will last them for the next few months. “Can you blame them though? You get your great taste from them.” He gets nails dug into his skin for that one but he doesn't care because the resulting laughter that is finally extracted from Seongwu makes it worthwhile.

"You and your dumb big head,” Seongwu sniffs as he loops his arms around Minhyun's neck.

Minhyun ignores the insult to look back at him, strokes his cheek.

"I get it though, not being able to resist you," the soft words come.  

If Minhyun could ever choose a moment to return to, this would be high on the list. A memory that he wants to bottle up so no one can ruin it, so that it can be secure within the forefront of his brain, so that it remains just enough, enough for them right now.

Tomorrow, Seongwu will forget to set the timer for the heating to turn on an hour before the both of them are due home from work, but he'll remember to place the small post it on the bathroom mirror reminding Minhyun to have an inspired day. Tomorrow, there will be tiny lies amongst truths between them—the watch that doesn't quite match Minhyun's style anymore but the one he wears every day regardless because Seongwu bought it years ago, his first present to Minhyun; or when Seongwu will tell Minhyun he did eat the supplements when in fact he had forgotten to and Minhyun sees through it immediately, but quietly doesn't say a word, just placing another one by his coffee the following morning.

Tomorrow, their life will continue just as it has, but right now it's good to have Seongwu back.

"You're the one I will always want to come home to," Seongwu pledges in a dulcet, honest tone. "I love you, Minhyun."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

iv;

 

 **옹**  
hey when are you coming home [20:12]

 **현**  
not for a few more hours!!  
[20:14] they want to go to noraebang (Microphone )

**옹**  
ok~ have fun~ [20:14]

wait, i was looking up shiba pics  
and  
oh  
my  
god  
i found your twin [20:46]

****

**현  
** ㅋㅋㅋ  you are ridiculous  
also i don’t  
[22:50] do you remember how much it hurt :(

**옹  
** butu looked like an angel, my angel [20:50]

**현  
** have you been drinking again??  
(maybe)  
(i’ll consider it)  
[20:50] (just for you)

 **옹  
** no… just love drunk…  
i’m lonely…  
but it’s okay… enjoy ur night…  
i’ll survive… [20:51]

 **현  
** you're ridiculous x1000000  
but  
you’re cute  
[20:52] i’ll be home soon ♡

 **옹  
** hey  
hey  
hey  
come home hyun i wanna fuck you [22:44] 

******  
**

**현**  
it’s true when they say  
[22:48] romance is dead huh

**옹**   
come home i wanna fuck you  
(Rose ) i love you (Rose ) [22:48]

 ** **현  
** ** back in 20  
maybe 14 min if i run  
[23:55] 

 **옹  
** don’t run, you’re bad at it  
waiting for u~  
 

 **현  
** shut up (Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )(Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes )(Smiling Face With Heart-Shaped Eyes ) **  
** [23:02]also don’t you dare start without me (See-No-Evil Monkey )

**옹**

i’ll just be here i guess  
with my hand...  
thinking of u... (Winking Face ) [22:02]

 **현**  
ONG SEONGWU I SWEAR TO GOD  
[22:03] IM TURNING OFF MY PHONE

 **옹  
** come home now i love you [22:03]

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

v;

 

“Remind me, why did we come here again?” Seongwu questions grouchily as they walk uphill towards Haedong Yonggungsa Temple, following the throngs of people who obviously had the same intelligent idea of coming here to witness the first sunrise of the year.

They had only just made the impromptu decision a few hours ago at midnight, to make a visit to the seaside temple to enjoy the early morning view since it was supposedly life changing. The pair of them had celebrated the holidays this particular year with Minhyun’s family in his hometown of Busan and had spent the last few days enjoying the local delights, including Seongwu attempting to fight with seagulls by the ocean and Minhyun dissolving into hysterical giggles in the background, camera in hand.

It is in Busan that Seongwu falls in love with milmyeon, the refreshing cold noodles dish despite it being winter and the burning hot ssiat hotteok that both him and Minhyun can't resist. It is in Busan that he falls in love with the crashing of the sea waves as he watches wide eyed from the shore, clutching Minhyun's hand. It is in Busan that he falls in love with the way the crisp breeze ruffles through Minhyun’s hair as they had sat at an outdoors pojangmacha in Seomyeon having an evening drink, talking about their worries and dreams into the night as always.

And, it is in Busan, that Seongwu falls in love again.

“What do you mean?” Minhyun asks, breath ghosting over his ear as he presses closer to Seongwu, avoiding the large group of elderly women who bypasses around them with speed belying their years.

The street is cloaked in the midwinter darkness—twilight not yet breaking, still waiting for dawn to arrive. However, it is bustling with tourists and locals alike, with only their phones to illuminate their way, like stars shining in the night sky. Vendors are already selling their wares, the loud chants of hawking tangled with the mixed smells of all kinds of mouthwatering food, and Seongwu’s stomach stirs.

“I’m getting too old for this all nighter thing,” Seongwu grouses as he plants his feet one by one in front of him, sucking in the frigid air through his nostrils. They had spent the New Years countdown at Minhyun's childhood friend’s place and had wandered down to Haeundae Beach to spend the last two hours before finally deciding to make their way here. “Coming here is my fault, right? I shouldn’t have even brought up the idea.”

"It is your fault." Minhyun nudges his ribs with an elbow, before he moves to clasp Seongwu’s gloved hand. “But it’ll be worth it.”

They make a pit stop when they purchase several souvenirs and Minhyun buys Seongwu odeng in an effort to appease him, and the accompanying steaming broth does in fact simmer him down. There are dark smudges under Minhyun’s eyes, as expected for someone who has been up for more than twenty four hours, but there is a continued, familiar serenity in his expression and Seongwu takes comfort in it.

The rest of the walk is done in silence, hand in hand. They descend down the stairs as slowly as the congested path will let them, and Minhyun mentions offhand, there are 108 steps, and Seongwu nods thinking that's still 108 too many.

When they finally reach the bottom landing, the shelter of trees open up to the magnificence that is the sun, breaking across the horizon on their left and the strong temple built on the rocks to their right.

The scene is beautiful, and so completely worth it that Seongwu immediately takes back all his complaints from earlier. Threads of red and orange bleed into the inky sea that stretch as far as the eye can go and the saltiness permeate his nostrils from where the eastern winds blow.

The pair of them jostle through the crowd to squeeze into a small gap on the bridge. Seongwu feels Minhyun stand behind him, snaking his arms around his torso to jam his hands into Seongwu’s jacket pockets where he knows a hot pack lies awaiting. The heat of his boyfriend’s body perfuse through all of his molecules, as he feels the warm puffs of breath on his nape.

“Seongwu,” Minhyun whispers, voice solemn as they take in the picture that looks almost painted. “Did you know that if you make a wish on the first sunrise of the New Year that it’ll come true?" His head comes to rest on Seongwu's shoulder, pointed end of his chin digging in. "Make a wish.”

Seongwu almost doesn’t know what to wish for, half-heartedly thinking that he has everything he needs right here within his grasp. He continues to stare out towards the sky where the sun is continuing its ascent indicating to him that he doesn’t have much more time.

When he finally casts his wish inwardly, Seongwu extricates himself from the warm confines of Minhyun’s arms, turning around so that their faces are only a small distance away from each other, uncaring of the people around them.

“Minhyun,” Seongwu murmurs, letting a gust of air escape his lungs as he looks into his boyfriend’s eyes where there is something in his gaze that always steadies him. The rays of sunlight directly overhead now is also turning Minhyun’s usual brown eyes almost golden. Seongwu continues, “Mhm, I’m glad I had this idea and I’m glad that you pushed me to see it through.” He wants to kiss Minhyun on the lips, but they are in public and they are already pushing it, so he attempts to remain decorous and just settles for the cheek instead. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

Seongwu has Minhyun carved onto his mind, and on to his skin. They’ve been together long enough that Seongwu knows all of his nuances by heart, has all of his expressions imprinted onto his system, and every emotion tucked away into corners of himself.

Minhyun smiles back at him, and Seongwu knows that he too understands him in a way that only he does. He knows Seongwu inside and out, knows how to navigate all of his subtleties with only a slight twitch of a muscle, or a small hitching of breath to guide him. “I am happy, yes.”

And here, hearing these words, Seongwu himself knows. He’s always known.

Seongwu almost can’t hear his own voice over the ringing in his ears, and the quickening in his chest, but the words come out automatically, a vow that he hopes he’ll never have to take back.

"I love you, this year and every year."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

+1;

 

So, since it now has been firmly established that Ong Seongwu is just maybe, very slightly head over heels in love with Hwang Minhyun—

The anatomy of a marriage proposal goes a little something like this: 

 

 

> **having an eye-opening realization:**

This is the part that comes easily—the easiest part about this entire process actually. It happens one afternoon after returning from their requisite weekend brunch date as they take a nap on the floor of their apartment. Seongwu is propped sitting against the base of the couch and Minhyun sprawled out, head settled in Seongwu’s lap.

When Seongwu wakes, the world is quiet and slow around them, and he gradually becomes aware of certain things. Like the way the clock is ticking on the far wall, or the consistent hum of the fridge in their kitchen, but more importantly, the way that Minhyun’s breathing is slow and steady and his face looks completely unguarded and peaceful.

Seongwu allows his gaze to linger on each one of Minhyun’s features—the tousled hair that covers his forehead, the dark fan of eyelashes that lie against his pale skin, the arch of his nose, and the pretty cupid’s bow that’s just begging to be traced.

He could look at him for hours; forever and he thinks he could never tire of it.

And, it hits Seongwu right then, that Minhyun is someone that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with and that he can’t picture himself being without him.

Even though he’s toyed with the idea over the years, heart slowly smoothening down the facets of worry that his brain produces, but it is in this exact moment that Seongwu is finally faced with the full confirmation that he one hundred percent, most definitely wants to marry Minhyun.

Which leads him to the hard part of this scenario—actually deciding what to do about it.

Minhyun stirs, making a snuffling noise in his sleep. He shifts, face tipped upwards. Seongwu uses this opportunity to lean down to rest his lips upon the tiny little mole halfway down Minhyun’s neck before before dragging it up to feel Minhyun’s pulse on the underside of his jaw.

From the direct contact, Minhyun’s eyelids begin to flutter open as he wakes up. “Seongwu?” he mumbles, and though soft and sleepy, Seongwu hears his name being called out this time like a sturdy frame that has been built to house his heart.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but all Seongwu asks, with wonderment, is, “Did you know that sometimes, I look at you and I honestly can’t believe how beautiful you are?”

Minhyun’s eyes are closed again as he smiles around the words. “Charmer.”

Seongwu is still a little breathless and lightheaded when he answers back, “It’s not being charming if it’s true.”

 

 

> **knowing you like the back of my hand:**

Seongwu casually turns the white gold band in his fingers, thumb sliding back and forth along the divot that lines around the entire circle.

Despite Minhyun’s penchant for wearing rings and having a slightly formidable collection, Seongwu has had to spend the last fortnight stealthily trying to figure out the ring size of Minhyun’s fourth finger which has remained bare in the years Seongwu has known him.

He’s taken every opportunity to fiddle with the space just above the knuckle under the guise of their intertwined hands and he hopes like hell that Minhyun hasn’t caught on. Seongwu has learnt the hard way that he's never been able to sneak anything past him no matter how hard he's tried.

Picking out the ring hadn’t been too much of a struggle, now very familiar with Minhyun’s tastes—simple and refined, just like the man himself. He’s midway through the thought that he needs to add something more personal, more intimate to it like an engraving of some kind but _what_ when he’s interrupted by the one person he's thinking about.

“Honey, I’m home.” Minhyun’s laughing voice floats through the open bedroom door making Seongwu take in the fact that his boyfriend is half a fucking hour home from work early. Seongwu immediately panics and shoves the ring into a nondescript box before burying it under mounds of the kitschy souvenirs he’s accumulated over the years that he can’t bear to throw away, and hopes like hell a second time for the day that he won’t be caught out.

The good luck talisman he had purchased from the time they visited Haedong Yonggungsa at the start of the year winks back at him as he shoves the drawer close. Seongwu leaves the ring sitting there to head out to the kitchen, distracting Minhyun with the latest news that they’re releasing an upgraded version of his favorite roomba.

They settle in for a routine evening with Seongwu setting the table as Minhyun heats up the leftover soondubu stew. They recount the events of their day as per normal, but through it all, Seongwu can’t help but think of the piece of his heart that sits in the cabinet.

Who ever said this marriage proposal thing was easy has clearly never done it before themselves.

 

 

> **getting ribbed:**

“So, enlighten us the reason for this lovely get together,” Jaehwan announces after he takes a sip of the cola in front of him. “Not that I’m against it or anything, but don’t you think that this is an interesting combination?” Seongwu assumes he is referring to the fact that he is currently seated in front of both Jaehwan _and_ Dongho who haven’t had much to do with each other despite the mutual friends and being the respective best friends of Seongwu and Minhyun.

Seongwu takes a deep breath, building up the resolve and the mental fortitude that he'll need for the ensuing conversation. “Well.” He takes a bite of his hamburger, and also decides to bite the bullet since it’ll be far easier this way. Swallowing, he says, “I’m going to propose to Minhyun.”

There's a strangled sound when Jaehwan almost sprays him with his drink. Seongwu looks at him with distaste, flicking a droplet off.

“Hang on, _you_ —,” Jaehwan wheezes in between outbursts of maniacal laughter that is going to haunt Seongwu’s dreams, “—are going to _propose_?”

Seongwu flattens lips into a straight line, praying to God for hopeful karmic retribution one day. “Yes, I am intending to do so anyway,” he answers, unimpressed at the way his friend is wiping tears from his eyes. “What’s so funny about it?” he asks, irritatedly. They have no faith in him, it seems.

“I just—“ Jaehwan begins, still chuckling. He pauses before shrugging. “You’re the one that insisted through our college years that marriage was for suckers.” Dongho raises his brows at the newly gained information but fortunately doesn’t press further. "Guess you're the true sucker after all."

Seongwu scowls but then gives in because it’s _true_.

Ong Seongwu is absolutely besotted with Hwang Minhyun.

“How long have you guys been together again?” Dongho asks as he leans back on his chair, legs crossed at the ankle under the table.

“Like five years, I guess.” Seongwu scratches a finger along the table, microscopic plastic fibres scraped off. “Haven’t really kept count.” That’s a blatant lie, since he can't forget the way they recently celebrated their fifth anniversary (long story short it involved bows in inappropriate places).

It’s been 1850 days or 5 times the earth has orbited the sun since they started dating, but hey who’s counting.

“Wow, has it already been that long? Seems like it was only just yesterday you were just moaning on to me about how perfect Minhyun was and I was telling you that you would never measure up.” Jaehwan's eyes sparkle and Seongwu stares stonily at him. Jaehwan hums and Seongwu can practically hear the gears in his brain begin to crank into place. “So, are you going to sing it like how you confessed the first time?” There’s a rounding of Jaehwan’s cheeks now as he curves into the all too knowing grin that he’s famous for. “Make it a _big bang_.”

“Actually, I heard it was Super Junior,” Dongho interjects glibly and Seongwu wants to slam his head onto the table. There’s about fifteen minutes left of lunch before Seongwu needs to get back to work, and that’s fifteen minutes of still wanting to stab both of them with a fork.

What are friends for if not to exercise murderous intent?

“You guys are going to be blacklisted from the wedding,” Seongwu threatens mutinously and the other two look back at him innocently.

However, the feeling passes quickly because the previous memory really isn’t such a sore point anymore given the resulting consequences—the reason that him and Minhyun are together in the first place. Bless the lack of subtlety that his inebriated college ass used to possess.

“So when are you going to do it?” Dongho asks, chewing through his last mouthful of bread. “And what do you need us for?”

Seongwu looks up from the small pieces of the napkin on the table where he's been shredding it. “I—Hmm, I thought since you both have been there from the beginning and both know Minhyun well, I need you guys to help me decide when is the right time to do it, and _how_.”

It takes Jaehwan only about two seconds flat to answer him. Seongwu is also surprised to hear how right he is (really, it happens occasionally but he still gets taken aback) when Jaehwan asks, “Is there really ever a right time though? I mean, you guys have been together a long time and from what I know, I don’t think Minhyun hyung really cares for huge events anyway so I probably wouldn't stress about it.”

Dongho nods and Seongwu trusts his opinion even more because Dongho and Minhyun have known each other longer than Seongwu has known Minhyun. “He’s pretty softhearted and romantic but he wouldn’t want you to make a big deal out of it. You already know you want to marry him, and that’s the exact thing that he’ll be happy about regardless of how you do it.”

Seongwu’s fingers clamps tightly around his glass of water as he thinks about what Minhyun would want. He actually hates the idea of proposing in public, having all their feelings laid out to dry. But he thinks, if Minhyun wanted a flash mob, he would have fucking given him a brass band and all the ostentatious trimmings despite the fact that his stomach would probably fall out of his butt doing so.

However, thankfully from what Seongwu's gleaned over the years, he doesn’t think his boyfriend would actually want the gigantic proposal, copy and pasted out of the the cheesiest movies. Fortunate too, because although Seongwu assuringly knows he does have a way with words at times, he wouldn’t call himself a very romantic guy—not even particularly in the bottom 20% of the general cohort.

“Just do it,” Dongho voices out firmly and it hits him again. "He'll love it no matter what."

“Seongwu and Minhyun,” Jaehwan sing-songs with a lilt. “Minhyun and Seongwu. Just like when you guys started dating and barely anything changed after, what’s the difference with marriage? You guys will be fine. Always have and always will.”

 

 

> **winging it from the heart:**

Seongwu has had maybe about three close nervous breakdowns in the past three weeks, and still hasn’t manage to bring up the courage to do it. The question sits in his chest, like a living, beating thing but it’s completely stuck like a rock he can’t heave off himself.

He’s constantly edited and re-edited the words that he wants to say to Minhyun, feeling almost helpless because he can’t seem to find a way to encapsulate the entirety of what Minhyun means to him. He's thought about it so much that Minhyun has to prod him at times when Seongwu stares off into space, ignoring what is right in front of him.

It’s on a random Friday that Seongwu has it finally planned for.

After pushing every other idea away, he’s decided he’s going to do it after dinner at their favorite restaurant, on the walk home along the Cheonggyecheon river. There’s a quiet patch midway where he knows Minhyun likes to hop across the stepping stones, and Seongwu likes to sit there watching him. It’s where he’s going to get down on one fucking bent knee amidst the lights of the surrounding buildings glowing like stars that is so normally hard to find in the city sky even on the clearest of nights and Minhyun is gonna tear up, kiss him and say _yes_.

_However._

The only problem is the plan immediately goes downhill, flying out the window completely when Seongwu returns to their apartment after work to get ready for their dinner date. He walks through the threshold to be faced with a Minhyun who is wearing just a shirt—one of Seongwu’s collared shirts with the hem of the fabric skimming across his bare thighs, just below the edge of his briefs.

Just like day one.

Minhyun hasn’t seen him yet, with his cellphone clasped to his left ear, ordering two boxes of pizza from what Seongwu can gather from the end of his dialogue, and Seongwu surmises they’re having dinner home instead.

Fuck, he didn't account for Plan B.

But, Seongwu can’t even be disappointed because his heart still leaps when Minhyun turns around—face scrubbed clean and glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, with a smile so warm and comforting that Seongwu is convinced that he is standing in the way of the sun.

Minhyun hangs up the phone, and is already reaching his hands towards Seongwu. They tangle into the back of Seongwu’s hair as he murmurs into the edge of Seongwu’s mouth, “I hope you don’t mind staying in tonight. I channelled you and felt like a lazy one so I cancelled dinner plans.”

How can Seongwu say no to Minhyun?

How can he say no to Minhyun who knows that Seongwu would probably prefer to stay in anyway, eating his favorite food, with his favorite person?

How can Seongwu say no to Minhyun especially when the latter just kisses him so fucking softly, so tenderly, so much so that it makes Seongwu feel the sensation roll completely down his spine, right down to his toes?

And so Seongwu answers by slotting his mouth against Minhyun’s even further, tongue retracing familiar topographies, knowing deep within him that although he didn’t choose to fall in love, he has chosen to continue to stay in love.

Seongwu wonders, in between kisses, if there is a limit to loving somebody, a limit to how fast a heart can beat before it finally short circuits and explodes, like his is threatening to do so currently.

Minhyun pulls back to stare at him with all the love in his eyes and Seongwu figures he’ll just go for it.

“Will you marry me,” Seongwu blurts out casually, not even posing it as a question as they stand in front of each other in their kitchen. He digs his hand into his pocket to produce the ring that has been sitting there all day like a tiny weight.

Seongwu allows it to sit on the palm of his hand in between the both of them; a tangibility of hope.

This proposal isn’t quite how he initially wanted it to be, but in hindsight, it makes sense, simple with the both of them right here in their home.

A strange glint appears in Minhyun’s eyes when he silently looks at the ring, looks back at Seongwu and looks back down at the ring again.

And for as much as Seongwu has run this moment through his head multiple times over in the days gone past, there’s nothing whatsoever that prepares Seongwu for Minhyun’s ensuing response.

“No.”

A long beat passes.

“No?” Seongwu echoes disbelievingly. “You’re turning me down?”

His fist slowly drops down to clench by his side—to open and close, once, twice, feeling the edges of the ring cut into his palm as he watches Minhyun turn on his tail to head into the bedroom.

He’s unsure how to proceed, feet frozen to the spot but before he can even croak out a _why not_ , Minhyun returns as quickly as he left. However this time he moves forward to pick up Seongwu’s other hand, the one not holding the ring, to unceremoniously drop something onto it.

Before Minhyun allows Seongwu to look at what it is, he tells him resolutely, “I can’t marry you because you have to marry me first.” He takes his hand off and Seongwu is rendered speechless as he looks down at an almost identical white gold band sitting on the flat of his left hand.

_Of fucking course._

“Trade ya,” Minhyun continues casually and Seongwu feels blood course through his veins so quickly that his chest constricts.

There’s a permeable silence in the room again as they both can’t do anything except hold each other’s gazes, not quite sure what just happened.

“Seongwu”, Minhyun says now, lips wrapping lovingly around the syllables, tired of waiting Seongwu to say something. “You just had to get the first word in didn’t you? I wanted to be the one to propose since you were the one that initially confessed before we dated.” Seongwu immediately wants to kiss the pout off Minhyun’s lips but he lets the other continue because he's struck dumb again by the way the earth shifts every time he looks at Minhyun. “But honestly, it doesn't matter who proposes first because I love you, and you love me. And I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

Seongwu isn’t quite sure how much more he can be surprised by Minhyun, how much more bright and brilliant a man can be, but Minhyun always manages to outdo himself. “Okay.” Minhyun leans forward to capture Seongwu's lips in a kiss that is punctuated by the most helpless of laughs when Seongwu mutters, “You better not regret saying that when we’re eighty and still bickering because you’re stuck with me now.”

"Never."

 

 

> **loving you deep to my bones:**

“Ah, why didn’t I think of this? You have good taste,” Minhyun repeats from many months ago when he finally has the time to inspect the ring closely, attention on the sound wave etching that Seongwu had engraved on the inside of the band.

It’s a recording of Seongwu saying ‘I love you’ and he figured, though kind of clichéd, the phrase is the most important thing to him; to them.

“You're right as usual, and it shows,” Seongwu jokes as he slips his own ring back on. They have already made plans to get his engraved tomorrow. “But I also have to say, you have good taste too as evidence by _me_.” He punctuates his sentence with a smirk causing them to descend into lively laughter that ricochets off the walls, filling the apartment with warmth.

And because it’s the natural and inevitable progression of things, Seongwu presses more kisses to Minhyun’s forehead, to the tip of his nose, before finally landing on his lips—the one that is stretched out into the smile that is solely reserved for Seongwu.

Seongwu reaches up to stroke light fingers against the curve of Minhyun’s jaw, a grounding touch across skin as he softly tells his _fiancé_ , "I don't know what I did to deserve your love."

"Seongwu," Minhyun says, and Seongwu still loves the way his name sounds out despite it coming out in the form of a light reprimand. "You don't have to _earn_ my love, you just get it. Well at least from me, you do," he continues simply causing Seongwu's heart to swell to epic proportions.

They stand there in front of each other in their home, however this time with matching bands of promise on their interlocked hands. And in this moment, for as much as they like to tell each other so, Seongwu doesn’t need to say ‘I love you’ to Minhyun because he’s now got the ring for that.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ong's poem is the one he read out at their recent con entitled: "galaxy in my heart" by ahn jaedong. cry with me. + if you must take anything away from this piece, please check out [shiba minhyun](https://twitter.com/Shiba_Minhyun)
> 
> i was sitting on some other wips but was overcome with urgent need to write this due to RECENT DEVELOPMENTS (blame kuro for encouraging/inspiring me too), but more importantly also as a profuse thanks for all the support you guys have given me for the past several months ;w; so thank you thank you thank you. 
> 
> also just sayin' this honestly didn't start off as a proposal fic but i caved. hope y'all liked it. happy holidays! hope your 2018 is everything that you wish for. ♡ [jo](https://twitter.com/infede)


End file.
